The Silver Mask
by PlatSilver123
Summary: Salazar was nine when he watched his best friend die. As he discovers the first of the eight pages in the forest, he runs against time, trying to escape. But what is this feeling Sal has as he runs, and why does he keep losing his memory? (This is my first fic. Comments, reviews, and constructive criticisms are welcome!) (T for gore and such) (Updates Every Friday)


…

…

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Maybe it was a mistake all those years ago…

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To take help from a "friend"…

…

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But what happened is in the past.

What matters is the present.

…

I hope.

…

~ The prologue of HIS journal.

=== Chapter 1 ===

Time: 2001, May?

POV: ?

He is not a being which should be trifled with lightly. A stranger which seems friendly, tall, and faceless. A being which gives help as often as it takes lives. He is someone who should not be considered lightly, someone so dangerous he should not exist.

…

But he does.

My name is Sal. I'm sixteen ( I think ). This is my story of how I found the mystery man in the woods.

When I was younger, there were stories about the woods I lived near. Something about the disappearances of various children from their homes. Very stereotypical, I know. Symbols drawn on trees in what looks like blood, the occasional blood-splattered trees, and of course, the mutilated bodies of what were once my next-door neighbors' children. I, being my young nine-year old self, never listened to what my parents said about fearing the woods.

"Don't stay near the woods after sunset," my father would say with a stern look.

"Remember to be home by dark," my mother would say, hugging me.

"I dare you to stay in the woods with me tonight, without any parent supervision", my friend James said, oblivious to the dangers of what lurked in the evil woods.

Of course, I can't entirely blame James for what happened. We were both naïve (since we were just wee youngins). And of course, what adventurous child would not enjoy camping in the woods with little equipment away from our families? In my defense, I thought the forest was nice and peaceful (keyword **WAS** ).

James was my best friend. We met in pre-school and ever since, we've grown onto each other. He's about my height (tall midget-size), sandy blonde hair, and vibrant green eyes. He's a bit hyperactive as well as ADHD. But even with his overly hyper smug attitude, I enjoyed him just the same. Until now.

"Are you sure about this James?" I ask him worriedly, glancing around the forest. It's somewhat dark out already, the sun is setting, and the forest is getting more eerie by the second. The pine trees look menacing in the moonlight and all the bird calls sound increasingly creepy by the second.

The forest was known for its confusing pathways. "You could be lost in there for days," the mayor often warned us at school. Every tree looks similar, each growing to the skies with no boundaries. The canopy was thick enough to prevent most light, but light enough to let in the trickle of moonlight. I thought it was cool, seeing the blue shine of the moon.

"I've done this all the time!" James boasted to me, leading ahead farther away from the path as we stumble upon a clearing.

I start looking around nervously. I may have been eleven, but I wasn't stupid. I've read enough horror stories to realize something bad was about to happen.

"Hey, umm… James…" I whisper to him, not knowing exactly why I started to whisper. Maybe it was the sudden deadness of the woods, or the spooky twinkling moonlight shining upon us.

"What is Sal?" James says, oblivious to the possible danger that seems to be stalking us.

"I think we need to go ba-" I begin to say before getting interrupted.

"Hey look! Look at this piece of paper!" James suddenly exclaims, rushing off to a nearby tree.

I sigh inwardly as I go to him.

"What is it?" I ask, annoyed.

"It's kinda weird…" James trails off as I look at the paper. It's a crudely drawn picture of a face with two 'X's where eyes would be. There's no facial expression whatsoever on the paper and the words scribbled on erratically.

 **"ALWAYS WATCHING. NO EYES"**

Something right there changed. It was an instinctual feeling, a feeling as if we just became marked. I felt a breeze blow past my ears, whispering to us.

 **"One of Eight".**

"Did you say that?" James and I say, both surprised. We both glance around us, scanning our surroundings.

"Do you have the feeling", I say carefully, nervous. The forest seems more menacing than ever. It's quiet. Too quiet. I have the primordial urge to stay quiet and stay very very still.

"That someone is watching us right now?" I ask, turning back around to face where James was only to see the bloody corpse of James, stuck to tree as his lifeblood stained the forest around me.


End file.
